A Pink Lamington Occasion

Today is a very special day. 

Today is my second Rezzaversary.

I have been blogging about Rezza for less than a year, but I have in fact been an official Rezzadent for two years as of today. Since my auspicious arrival in this suburb I've seen and learnt so many amazing things. 

For example, I now know that when fanging a turn at an intersection, a straight six should automatically give way to a V6, and a V6 should automatically give way to a V8, unless the V6 has some sick modifications that trump the V8. If said modifications aren't immediately apparent, some basic call-and-reply revving will quickly clarify right of way. Classic V8's do not have automatic seniority here, as they do in the inner city, but classic hogs do.

I now also know that even though people here drink more than people in Fitzroy (which is an achievement), they do it privately and at a reasonable hour, and therefore it makes sense that you can't buy alcohol after 10pm unless you're playing the pokies, and if your neighbour starts a jackhammer at 8am on Saturday you will seem odd if you try to tell them you were out until 3am and they are hurting your soul.

I now know that in addition to being really adorable loving little guys, Staffies are to the canine world what Toranas are to the automotive world: muscle dogs for chicks. 

I know that if I don't bring my bins in or mow my nature strip, the whole street feels awkward, and this embarrasses me.

I know that riding motorbikes barefoot is fine, so long as you've got your helmet.

I know that I can buy 50 varieties of cheese, and spices, and pickles, but can't find a good restaurant after lunch. That's ok - I'm rarely hungry after all that good cheese anyway.

I know all my neighbours' names, and they know mine.

Okay that part is still weird.